


Unwritable and Unknowable

by fullmetallovr21



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 'slaps roof of fan fiction' this baby can hold so much self-projection, Crowley is kind and im gonna say it ok, From god's perspective a bit, God Ships It, M/M, No beta we drown in typos and grammatical mistakes like demons, Pretty blasphemous to be honest, Run-On Sentences, Some Fluff, Some angst, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), at least for the first bit, brevity is not my strong suit and the flowery language might be over the top, discussion of theology, kind of stream of consciousness, like God not being all powerful, like a lot of them, like zero dialogue in the first two chapters sorry I'm bad at writing dialogue, my first fic so probably a bit ooc and not very good., next to no dialogue, so i just noped out of doing it, there are somethings even God can't explain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-07-09 12:16:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19887619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullmetallovr21/pseuds/fullmetallovr21
Summary: "Creating the universe had been a difficult endeavor. So incredibly difficult, in fact, that it was nearly impossible to describe. It was like creating an experiment with a set of intensions and then watching it careen out of control slowly, over time, like a train wreck."God contemplates her creations as she watches Aziraphale and Crowley figure out themselves post averted apocalypse, and as heaven and hell make another attempt to end the ineffable husbands she's grown to love.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic for Good Omens, I kind of liked the idea of God not being able to control her creations once they got going, and not having all the answers either so I wrote that. 
> 
> A warning that my writing tends to be verbose, contains a lot of pretentious sounding ACT vocab words, and has a lot of run on sentences. If that is not your cup of tea you might not want to read any further. 
> 
> This first chapter is mostly from the perspective of God, but there's an unknown omniscient narrator.

EVERYWHERE, NOWHERE, AND IMPOSSIBLY, SOMEWHERE IN BETWEEN, AT NO TIME WHATSOEVER: 

Creating the universe had been a difficult endeavor. So incredibly difficult, in fact, that it was nearly impossible to describe1. It was like, creating an experiment with a set of intensions and then watching it careen out of control slowly, over time, like a train wreck.

_1\. One could say ‘ineffable’. One could say, but instead a rather rambling and poorly worded description will commence instead._

Or perhaps she was like a very confused horologist, blindly tinkering her way through an ancient clock, guided only by the faintest clue of what might come next, but unsure of the final outcome. She supposed, on the other hand, one could say she was merely an engineer who’s creation had grown a kind of sentience. She was there for maintenance, and repairs, but could only do so much, as what she created had grown out of her control.

It’s not unusual ok? She had seen it happen before, as she watched humans2, she had seen scientists create a marvelous invention, and watched on in abject horror, at the talent for twisting things from their original purpose, making them the antithesis of what they had set out to be that humans seemed to have.

_2\. And a certain angel and demon, who shall, at this point in the narrative, remain nameless._

Or perhaps, she sometimes pondered, it was rather more like a parent, who had watched her children grow up and make choices that she did not intend them to, and being unable to stop it happening.3 She supposed that’s what she was, a mother who watched on, in a mix of adoration, joy, but also horror, and disbelief at her children, as if looking into a snow globe.

_3\. She had given up much of her control near the beginning, and was unable to take it back. Perhaps it was because certain actions (for purportedly ineffable reasons) could not be undone, even by her. Perhaps she had grown tired of it. Or possibly realized that she shouldn’t have that much power over the children she loved so very much. Any one of these reasons would be nice pretend is true._

Sometimes when she imagined it, it was as being the mother of three children, her eldest two, the ones close to her and those they had cast out below, and stuck in the middle was humanity, misunderstood by two siblings on either side of them, perpetually being picked at by both, and nearly destroyed.

Other times still, she chased her thoughts around in circles, pondering the mad irony it was to attempt to describe the inherently indescribable.4

_4\. 'I suppose there’s a potential answer to the omnipotence paradox', she sometimes thought bitterly as she did this._

And then she saw it. Just as her two eldest descended on humanity, poised to wipe them out, an angel and a demon, a group of eleven-year-olds, a professional descendent, and a which finder private came together to stop it happening. _Oh._ She had wept with joy. Her beautiful Guardian of the Eastern Gate, the Principality Aziraphale, and her lovely, _kind_ 5demon, the Serpent of Eden, the source of Original Sin, Crowley. She felt as if something miraculously and gratifyingly right was finally taking place for the first time since she had relinquished control.

_5\. Though he would angrily deny it._

The angel and demon had _understood_ humanity the way she did, adoring it for all the human’s ingenuity, stubbornness, determination, kindness, and optimism. The way they could pick themselves up and begin again, to improve.

And _yes_ they stumbled, and _yes_ they made mistakes, but that was the _beauty_ of them, she, and they had thought; how _wonderful_ it was to see them get better, in _spite_ of it all.

She had watched fondly, as the angel and demon had outwitted their siblings, dined at the Ritz, and had finally spoken the things that had remained unspoken yet just beneath the surface for a while now. She had been delighted to see them pack their things, and settle down together in a little cottage in the South Downs. She had watched closely as they had figured out their next steps together, each slowly getting used to their new lives together, and each being delightedly surprised as they realized that they still had much to learn about each other, even after so long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited this: fixed a few minor word choices, and the footnotes were not working the way I wanted them to so I changed the formatting. I wanted it to be something where you could click down to read the notes and then click back up but after hours and some of my sanity gone I just made them in italics underneath the paragraph where they appear for ease of reading.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A break from God's thoughts to focus a bit on the cottage and our ineffable husbands.

IN THE TIME FOLLOWING THE NOT-END-OF-THE-WORLD:

It was a process, learning to live with the new normal. For two beings who had been alive since before the beginning of time, it felt rather like being hurled at the speed of light after millennia of standing still. They spent more time together in the months that followed the ‘not-calypse’1 than they had in the 6,000 years previous. Both Crowley and Aziraphale found they rather liked that change.

_1\. As a rather drunk being with snake-like eyes was wont to call it, on occasion._

They had bickered for a long time about many things regarding how the cottage would be. Each had agreed on one bedroom. They had found they liked to sleep together, knowing where each other was in sleep had become important to them since they had almost lost each other. Their bickering was more about how many plants would be in each room, how many rooms Aziraphale was allowed to make double as a library to contain his vast collection of books, where exactly Crowley’s greenhouse should be positioned.2  Eventually however, they had managed to find the perfect mix. So that everywhere they looked, they could see each other in the little details.

_2\. Aziraphale had insisted its location be in a place that he could look up from his reading and see his dearest tending to his plants, and Crowley had eventually agreed, finding (as always seemed to be the case) himself unable to deny his angel anything._

Tartan pillows on a soft black ornate couch, transparently silky black curtains, a throne like chair and a soft over stuffed armchair by the fireplace, bookshelves lining the sitting room, with a small wine rack holding their favorites (the rest they kept in the cellar). This was where they would collapse, full of food3and wine4. Here is where Crowley would rest his head on Aziraphale’s lap. Eyes closed, as Aziraphale read aloud from one of his many books, his hands running through coppery red hair as he did so. It was also in this room that Aziraphale occasionally looked up to catch Crowley talking to his plants, with an expression of such love that he could not possibly have been scolding them. Aziraphale would smile to himself and look down before his demon realized he had been seen undermining the reputation he had cultivated over the years.5

_3\. Mostly on Aziraphale’s part_

_4\. Mostly on Crowley’s_

_5\. Best not let him know that almost all of their friends knew that he wasn’t as ruthless as he liked to let on, wouldn’t want to spoil it for him._

Their kitchen was filled to the brim with plants, which gathered sunlight through the large windows that let light filter freely into the room, illuminating it in a soft gold light for a good portion of the day during the summer. Somehow, the angel had managed to fit some bookshelves in this room as well, placed in seemingly impossibly tight spaces between certain appliances, and mostly containing different cook books from different points in history. It was here that Crowley found out about Aziraphale’s new hobby of attempting to cook all his favorite dishes6. Crepes were a common staple, but occasionally Aziraphale would attempt an old favorite from times long past. It was also in this room that Aziraphale found out Crowley liked to sleep in snake form hanging from the dangling plants he had positioned in a way that they caught some sunlight most of the day. He did this mostly while watching Aziraphale cook, though the angel knew better than to bring this up to his demon7.

_6\. Crowley personally got to sample a lot of decadent crepes._

_7\. He appreciated it all the same, even doting about it in the privacy of his own thoughts._

Their bedroom too, was an amalgamation of their personalities. Bookshelves lined a few walls, and a chair and lamp sat in the corner in case Aziraphale would rather read than sleep. Their bed sat beneath a collection of cards that the Them, Anathema and Newt, and even Shadwell and Madame Tracey had sent them, which were attached to the wall. In the corner sat a statue from Crowley’s old flat, the one with the two angels doing what Aziraphale had assumed at first had been wrestling.8 Here is where Aziraphale had first comforted a distraught Crowley, freshly awoken from that evenings’ nightmare. It was also here where Crowley had paced, cursing Gabriel9 after the angel had told his love about what the archangel had said to him in the park on the day of the almost apocalypse. The demon and had eventually deflated, turning to comfort his angel and assure him that he was perfect, just the way he was.

_8\. It had not been._

_9\. While Aziraphale had wrung his hands and looked skyward, as though expecting a smiting at any moment_

It was in this collection of rooms that the Angel and Demon lived their lives, and she had watched as they did so, in awe of such love being born of her creation.

It was a blissfully peaceful two years after the Not Apocalypse before everything started to go wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the rest of the work is very loosely planned. I know where I want to end up but not yet every step it will take to get there. future chapters are kind of outlined, and bits of future chapters are written. I'm not sure when I'll be able to update again but I am going to try very hard to finish this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is my first attempt at dialogue. I'm pretty sure this is the longest chapter so far, and if this goes where I'm hoping it does this won't end up being the longest chapter. 
> 
> The dialogue is meant to be read as if it's a big group of angels/demons chatting, and the reader is just walking through, catching glimpses of each conversation as the angles and demons slowly figure things out. It's meant to be understood that each line is a different angel/demon talking. It might be a bit confusing that that's probably because dialogue is one of my (many) weaknesses as a writer. 
> 
> Also the first part of the chapter is a bit of non-plot related glimpse from God's perspective, and relies mostly on description (as does most of my writing). 
> 
> I also tried my best to write the dialect of the demons in the book, but I'm not British so I definitely failed miserably and I'm sorry that it might be painful to read.

Not much of this was going to make sense, she pondered, but persisted anyway. After all, her thoughts did tend to flit about these days. She often stopped to rest at passing thought in the way a curious customer perused an old book shop, their fingers stopping to lightly stroke the spines of books here and there; before the proprietor ushered them out with hurried, apologetic excuses.

For all the mistakes they made, she couldn’t help but love each and every one of her creations. Loving someone who does disappointing things hurts. It hurts quite a bit, as The Almighty has been learning for many thousands of years now. Sometimes she wondered if some of the love was born from all the loneliness that came before creation.

Being alone is dangerous. The absence of others for long periods of time can make it feel as if some of what makes you _you_ is draining away. After she’d experienced the loneliness for herself, she felt slightly vindicated (albeit still mildly perturbed) as she saw humans put each other in solitary confinement, and those confined slowly went mad. Humans philosophize on the effect of loneliness, and lament at being unable to connect to others. She commiserated. It was the feeling of slowly unravelling in the time before, feeling so utterly alone that she wondered if she would go mad, that prompted creation.

When she had created the universe, she had been a lot more in control. Molding each animal carefully, as if she were a pottery maker and this was her life’s work. She carefully set up elaborate systems, system within systems, ensuring that life, and humanity would go on once she was through. She created other beings that could think and act for themselves, celestial and earthly. She directed her eldest to create beautiful works of art, to paint the inky black expanse of space. Afterall, what was the point of having infinite space if you couldn’t share the creation with others? She had never felt less alone that when she and her eldest children were creating the stars, comets, planets, and other creations to litter the night sky.

And then, she had let it all go. She had relinquished control, and set into motion the very first events to happen in the universe. She stepped back.1 And her creations set to work. She had been shocked, and even distressed as she watched her creations do hurtful things to one another2. Though she had watched on in great fascination and a little bit of pride as one of the eldest of her children, the one who had created so many beautiful stars, now cast from her light, had given humans what she had wanted them to have, knowledge, and the last piece needed to give them free will. Her fascination grew further as she watched her Guardian of the Eastern Gate and Principality willingly give the gift she had given him to humanity.3

_1\. For reasons that The Almighty would like to keep to herself, although she welcomes you to speculate._

_2\. I mean, going about, taking each other’s grace and booting them into a pit of sulfur? Really now, quite unnecessary_

_3\. She will admit, she did not see that coming, and although initially a bit cross, she grew to appreciate the choice and marvel in her lack of imagination compared to her creations._

She spent the next few millennia watching closely as humans learned to take their first tentative step with their newfound freedom. She had reached in to make small changes4here and there, but for the most part, was content to watch from a short distance.

_4\. Flooding quite a lot of locals when some were behaving rather abhorrently, for one. Although she had appreciated that her favorite demon had followed her hidden suggestions to save some of the children._

Nowadays, she watches from much further away, and only seldomly interferes with happenings on earth5

_5\. After all, she’s got an entire infinite universe to deal with too._

* * *

There is a light that permeates the entire universe. It has been there since the beginning of time itself. You’ve seen a bit of it if you’ve ever looked at the empty static of a TV that was on, but not tuned into a channel. She liked to rest there occasionally, watch the world from afar. She went there when she needed to think, or when she wanted to focus. It was there The Almighty was when she observed the head office of Heaven and Hell begin to stir.

Gabriel, for all his holiness, was not immune from the sin of pride. Being the _Archangel-Fucking-Gabriel_ made it hurt all the worse when he was bested by that renegade angel and his deplorable6 demon. In fact, most everyone in both head offices were rather ... _tetchy,_ about the whole ordeal. Whatever humans liked to say about time and healing things were quite wrong as far as the forces of Heaven and Hell were concerned. Time had only made wounds fester and desires for revenge get more creative and imminent. It also had allowed plenty of opportunity to scour through everything, trying to figure out just _how_ they had managed to fail in the first place.

_6\. That qualifier is, of course, a matter of opinion._

Conversations between hosts of angels had taken on this kind of dizzying pattern as Heaven tried to work through their conundrum.

“There’s just no _way_ that Airaphale- that he could have-“

“Yes, yes, but _how_ did he do it?”

“But he, right in front of us- could he really have-“

“Don’t be ridiculous! Of course he couldn’t have! I just don’t know _how…_ ”

“Did ya hear? They say that.. that _demon_ ”

“You mean… the one that-“

“Yeah that’s the one! You know they say he also… y’know…” At this point looks would be cast in both directions as well as up and down, as if worried about being overheard from everyone at once before the conversation continued, “ _survived in a bath of holy water_. THE _holiest_ , holy water. Mad, isn’t?”

“Wait a tick, that means that Hell’s dealing with the same thing though, don’t it? Those arseholes are dealing with the same bollocks that we are”

“Don’t suppose we could… you know, ask about it y’know, _downstairs_ ”

“Could do… could do”

“Don’t be daft, we’d be mad to contact them without asking the higher ups. We should ask Uriel maybe, or Gabriel”

“Oh so you going to do it then, you going to go ask the Archangel _Fuckin’_ Gabriel to contact Hell, after the disaster of last time?”7

_7\. Incidentally, Gabriel had already decided he would contact a certain, buzzing demon just moments before this. It would just take a bit longer to figure it all out in the end._

“Well… that is to say… I certainly wouldn’t _presume_ to-“

“Yeah, that’s what I thought”

Hell, on the other hand, seemed to have a more difficult time deciding on the authenticity of what they had witnessed.

“He was always a little… _off_ wasn’t he?”

“That’s right, innit? I been saying-“

“Ack, _off_ , is putting it mildly innit? Off ‘is rocker, I reckon. _Never_ really all that good at a good old-fashioned temptation, was he? I mean, _telephone lines?”_

“Not to mention the M25 thing… made absolutely no _sense_ ”

“Oh damn that’s right innit? Forgot about that one.”

“I mean with how… _abnormal_ he was, s’not that crazy to imagine him bein’ immune to holy water, innit?”

“Oh I dunno, my fall felt pretty clean cut, ya know?”

“Yeah, there’s no way those blasted angels woulda left us any perks. Not even that fucking guy.”

“But if he’s really not immune, how’d he do it then? How’d he _survive?_ ”

“See, now _That’s_ the real question, innit? How _did_ he do it? I’ve got a theory y’see…”

…

…

The rest happened quickly. Both sides, working together8,Discovered the deception exactly 2 years and one day after what was supposed to be the end of everything.

_8\. Quite ironically, if you asked her, considering their end goal was to fight each other and destroy everything._

Give or take fifteen minutes.

Perhaps it had been a bad idea to change back in the middle of London, CCTV, and all that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free leave me comments, and any feedback is appreciated even if this wasn't your cup of tea, its the only way I'll get better and I plan to revise the entire work as I continue to practice my writing skills. 
> 
> Also not quite sure if CCTV works like that... I'm not British. Though i've seen CCTV signs all around cities when I've visited England so I imagine that's how it works.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that took a lot longer than I thought it would, and ended up being longer than the other three chapters combined. There's a lot of dialogue and action in this chapter so it took a long time to get right. I'll probably edit this later tonight, I'll make a note at the end of any edits I make. I hope you enjoy.

For a while after they saved humanity, Crowley would nervously flutter around the house, preparing for the worst. It had taken quite a while for him to convince Aziraphale to let him stash holy water around the house just in case. In the end, Aziraphale hoped allowing the demon to keep holy water would help him calm down.

Although he tried to hide it, Aziraphale felt the nervousness from his demon in the tenseness of his shoulders, and the way he would cast furtive glances around when they went out in public.

The angel would be lying if he had said he wasn’t also a little bit nervous. He didn’t know what their old sides had planned, or even if they had a plan. If they had figured out about their switch yet, or if they would figure it out.

Each took comfort in knowing where the other was, that the other was safe. When Crowley would wake up from a nightmare, Aziraphale would always be there to comfort him. When Aziraphale would work himself into a near panic over the different ways Heaven and Hell could take out their wrath on the two of them, Crowley would be there to calm him down.

Slowly, as the months passed, Crowley and Aziraphale started to relax. It had been just over two years and neither had heard so much as a peep from their former head offices. They had settled into a routine, get up, have breakfast (usually made by Aziraphale), then Crowley would tend to his plants while Aziraphale read or rearranged his books. They would occasionally make visits to Tadfield to see Adam and the Them, or Anathema and Newt. Sometimes they would go to an old bookshop, or a greenhouse having a sale. Their evenings would often find them eating out before returning for drinks, then relaxing on the couch together before retiring to their bedroom. It was comfortable, it was safe, and most importantly, they were together.

This of course, had made it rather frustrating for the offices of Heaven and Hell to make their move. It would be easiest to set their plans in motion when the angel and demon separated. And as it seemed that neither was terribly keen on the idea of leaving each other’s side, frustrated teams of angels and demons were instructed to keep an eye on the pair, and raise the alarm when an opportunity presented itself. This often meant that they would watch on in disgust as Aziraphale and Crowley fraternized in ways that no angel and demon ever would.

“Are they holding _hands_?!”

“Surely not!” 

“And lounging about together, how unorthodox!”

“Are they….”

“They _are_ ”

“Well I _never_!”

“Why can’t we just get them now again? They’re right there let’s just get this over with!”

“Don’t be foolish. Taking them together is too risky, we want to do this right.”

“Plus I heard Gabriel wants to er, talk with Aziraphale first, and Hastur has… well, _plans_ for Crowley, before the end.”

“SHHH _look!_ ”

* * *

Crowley and Aziraphale stumbled over the threshold of their cottage, warm with wine and content. They made their way to the couch, the demon laid his head on his angel’s lap, taking off his sunglasses and folding then into the pocket of his shirt..

“Have a good day, angel?”

“The best.” Aziraphale said with a smile, running his hands through the demon’s hair.

“How many books did you end up buying again? Lost count.” Crowley inquired, closing his eyes at the angel’s touch.

“Only fifteen dear.1”

1\. _It was not unusual for the angel to return from a book sale with upwards of 40 books._

“Going to need more bookshelves soon, the rate you’re going”

“I’m sure we’ll manage. Though… I suppose we could always place a book shelf down in the cellar” The demon in his lap huffed out a little laugh.

“you could put a few shelves in the greenhouse, if you want. A chair too, maybe”

The hands in his hair stilled.

“Really, dear? You’d let me do that?”

“Mmhm.” Crowley grunted “It’d be nice. You could read there while I tend to the plants. You wouldn’t have to keep looking through the living room window at me.2”

2\. _And, the demon had been thinking, perhaps it was time to show Aziraphale how he’d changed the way he parented his plants, upon noticing how well they grew after a few hushed compliments the angel hadn’t known he’d noticed. He’s not soft with them all the time mind you, wouldn’t want them to get spoiled_

The angel felt a blush creep up on his face as his hands resumed their path through coppery hair.

“Oh, well, that would be lovely. Thank you, Crowley.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, enjoying each other’s presence. 

Be it from a combination of wine and the little food he’d had at dinner, or from the rhythmic lulling sensation of the angel’s hands through his hair, Crowley found himself drifting off. Aziraphale was content to let him. Gently leaning over, the angel reached for the nearest book, one he’d set down earlier that day on the coffee table.3

  1. _They’d gotten the coffee table last week. They had found it in a little shop in a small village, the wood makers had been making furniture and other pieces for generations, and had a long tradition of carving a snake into each object he made. (‘Oh Crowley look! There’s a snake on this table leg, we simply must get it my dear, it would look lovely in the living room!’)._



Glancing fondly at the wooden snake carved into the table leg, Aziraphale turned his attention to the book in his hand, the other hand still carding through his demon’s hair.

The demons on watch rolled their eyes at the saccharine displays of affection.

They stayed like this for a long time. Aziraphale’s attention sunk into the pages of the book he held in his hand as the demon dozed on. The angel was so engrossed in his book that he almost didn’t notice Crowley begin to shift in his sleep. Once the demon started to quietly whimper in his sleep Aziraphale looked down, worried. His demon’s face was scrunched into a frown, and he was whimpering and muttering under his breath.

“Crowley dear, wake up.”

The demon remained asleep, his noises of distress growing louder, his muttering sounding strangely like ‘Ziraphale’. The demon’s breath started coming in quick panting breaths. Now the angel was growing concerned. Setting his book aside, Aziraphale gently placed his hands on the demon’s shoulders.

“Crowley, dearest, it’s just a nightmare, please wake up!”

“No, no please, ‘Zira… Come back, don’t leave me alone!”

“I’m right here, come on, wake up Crowley I’m alright!”

The demon shot straight up with a strangled cry and looked around. His eyes caught sight of his angel, and Aziraphale saw Crowley’s shoulders visibly relax. The demon leaned away, clutching his head in his hands and tugging at his hair as he tried to catch his breath. Aziraphale sat up straighter and reached his arms around the demon’s thin frame, pulling his love to his chest and rubbing soothing circles into his back. Ever so slowly, the demon’s breathing evened out to a normal pace and he shuddered in his angel’s hold.

“Would you like to talk about it, dearest?”

“What’s there to say, ‘nother nightmare.” The snake-eyed demon muttered despondently, his voice somewhat muffled by the angel’s vest.

“The bookshop again?” Aziraphale asked. Receiving a nod in response, the angel sighed in concern. “Oh… Crowley, I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been to go through.”

“Thought you were dead, angel. Thought you’d left me.”

“Never.”

“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep, Aziraphale. It’s un-angel like.”

Aziraphale adjusted their positions, so that Crowley was facing him, his head caught between the angel’s hands. “Crowley, I’m ok, I survived, and I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon, ok?”

This time, the demon closed his eyes, and leaned into the touch. “Alright.” He said gruffly. “What time is it?”

“About 12:30 in the morning.” Aziraphale said, glancing at the nearest clock. His demon sighed and pulled away.

“Right. I need another drink.” The demon made his way to their wine rack, fingers tracing over the bottles at hand. “What’d we do with that 2001 Riesling that Anathema gave us?”

“It’s in the cellar.” Aziraphale cast a worried glance at his companion. “Are you sure you want another drink? Perhaps-“

“I’m sure, angel” Came the sharp reply as the demon's golden eyes turned to the angel. Blue eyes blinked back owlishly. The golden-eyed snake glared for a moment before the demon seemed to deflate. “Sorry, I’m just… I just want to drink and relax. I don’t feel like getting into it right now.” The pleading tone is what made Aziraphale acquiesce. Afterall, it’s not like it would do any harm to the demon, and Aziraphale knew how Crowley could get after a particularly bad nightmare.

“Alright dear.”

They stared at each other for a while, before Crowley swallowed thickly and turned towards the hallway leading to the cellar.

“Be right back, angel.”

* * *

Crowley made his way down into the cool dark cellar. Pausing only to flick the light on, he made his way down the rows of wine muttering to himself.

“Where’d we put it… Ah”

Coming to a stop, the demon reached out to grab the bottle he’d been looking for when a voice startled him.

“Crawly. Long time no see.”

Whipping around, Crowley saw Hastur, Beelzebub, as well as four other demons who’s names he didn’t know, but whom he’d remembered seeing around during trips to hell to make reports. His eyes scanned the demons before resting on the speaker. 

“Hastur! Beelzebub!” He said with an air of disingenuous warmth4 “What brings you here? You could’ve knocked you know… come round for tea. I’m afraid right now isn’t the best time-“

  1. _If one thing can be said about Crowley, let it be that he saves grace remarkably fast._



His posturing was cut off by a swift punch to the face, and the demon Crowley crashed to the floor against the wine rack he’d been perusing. Bringing a hand to prod gingerly at his cheek, the snake-eyed demon grimaced at the sight of black demonic blood on his fingertips. Hastur knelt down in front of Crowley, making his eyes nearly cross in an attempt to keep the Duke of Hell in his sights.

“Been waiting a long time for this.” The duke said gleefully. “Finally get to take my vengeance on you. For killing Ligur, for stopping our war. You’ve no idea how long I’ve been waiting and planning for this. And _ah_. Those. Blasted. Sunglasses.” Hastur finished with relish, his hand reaching into Crowley’s breast pocket. Taking no heed of the strangled cry of indignation at this invasion of personal space, Hastur plucked the sunglasses from his pocket, bending them in two, shattering the lenses, and tossing them over his shoulder lazily. “Now. Let’s get to it hm?”

Crowley glared, and leaned forward. As much as it discomforted him to lean so close to Hastur’s face (and rather fetid scent) it served as a needed distraction as his hand reached out blindly behind him. He knew he’d stashed it in a bottle around here… ah. Gripping the neck of the bottle he grinned maliciously at the duke.

“ _Let’s._ ”

Crowley swiftly pulled the bottle out from its nook, but Hastur had noticed a split second faster, and dived out of the way as Crowley blindly threw the bottle of holy water. It shattered across the chest of one of the lesser demons. The shrieks of pain as the demon melted into a puddle of goo served as a good enough distraction for Crowley to scramble to the side and away from his attackers. He blindly grabbed several more bottles of wine, shattering them against the ground behind him as he stumbled towards the cellar stairs, hoping against hope that it would be enough to slow down his attackers.

No such luck. He’d gotten no more than ten steps before someone grabbed his waste and slammed him to the floor. Groaning, Crowley twisted in the grip so that he was on his back, hands pushing at the arms that held him in place. The lesser demon had around 75 pounds on him, however, and the Snake of Eden found himself effectively pinned in place. Beelzebub and Hastur swam into his vision, one on each side.

“Crawly” Beelzebub drawled “Enough struggling. Thizzz will be over soon. They knelt down, pulling a bottle of clear liquid with a gloved hand. It looked rather innocuous, but the aura it let off was holy. “Yezz” the Prince of Hell said with a smug air, interpreting the look of fear on their prey correctly. “Thizz is holy water. The holiest. Diluted of course. We don’t want to make thizzz too quick, after all.” They passed the bottle to Hastur, and then wrenched open the dress shirt Crowley had been wearing, tearing out the buttons, which clattered and bounced on the stone floor of the cellar.

“Hey, I liked that shirt!” Crowley snarled, redoubling his efforts to get away. Beelzebub lazily gestured behind them, and the remaining two lesser demons grabbed Crowley’s arms and pinned them to the floor.

“Now. We’re going to have some fun. And then we’re going to kill you in front of your beloved angel.”

Crowley opened his mouth, perhaps to shout for said angel, but before he could so much as make a grunt of noise, the Prince had gripped his jaw in a vice like grip, preventing any sound from escaping. “Now now, wouldn’t want to interrupt. Would we? Upstairs is having a bit of a… talk with that pathetic excuse for an angel, it’d be rude to interrupt.” Crowley could only glare as Beelzebub nodded to Hastur.

The Duke of Hell uncapped the bottle, knelt next to Crowley’s bare chest, and snarled, “This is for Ligur.” He tipped a small portion of the contents of the bottle onto Crowley’s bare chest.

The pain was enormous. It was not the quick burn of pure holy water, but a slow smolder; tearing away at his flesh and producing smoke that curled up from his chest. Crowley grunted in pain against the hand that still held his mouth and jaw. It was possibly the worst pain he’d ever been in in his life. All thought was obliterated from his mind as overwhelming pain consumed everything.

After what felt like years, the pain subsided as the last of the diluted holy water evaporated away. Crowley’s eyes closed lethargically. Barely a few drops in, and his energy was already fading fast. Hastur cackled gleefully, “Now now don’t go passing out yet. We’ve only just begun! Right, this next one is for stopping the apocalypse.”

Again and again, more small portions of holy water splashed down onto Crowley’s chest and face. Each time the demon felt as if everything in his body was on fire. Pain eclipsed any and all coherent thought. _Surely_ this couldn’t go on forever? How long had it been? Time meant nothing to him, the only thing that was present was burning. _‘just let it be over. Just let me die’_ His scrambled thoughts cried in between tortures.

After what seemed like an eternity. The small bottle of holy water was gone. Pressure released from Crowley’s waste as the demon who had tackled him stood up. Beelzebub’s hand left his face as both they and Hastur stood up. Crowley was too weak to even think about crying out or fighting back. He let his head lull to the side. “Upstairzz should be ready for uzz now.” The Prince buzzed. Crowley felt the two demons at his arms yank him up unceremoniously, and he was dragged back up the cellar stairs. 

* * *

APROXIMATLEY 15 MINUTES EARLIER

Aziraphale’s attention had returned to his book as he waited for his demon to return from the cellar. This changed however, when the angel hear a loud crash, followed by a terrible shriek come from down stairs.

Aziraphale looked up, frowning in concern. “Crowley? Crowley! Are you alright dear?”

No reply. The silence worried Aziraphale almost more than the shrieking. Standing up, the angel made it no more than two steps from the couch when a blinding white light startled him back into his seat. With a flash and a rather loud bang, five angels appeared in front of them. Chief among them Gabriel, accompanied by Uriel and four guards. Two of the lesser angels, who were holding celestial blades moved to either side to the couch Aziraphale was sitting on and pointed their blades downward in a clear message ‘ _don’t move_ ’ the principality paled.

“Aziraphale!” Gabriel’s voice boomed through the room as he strode to where the renegade angel was sitting. The archangel stepped over the coffee table before settling down onto it, his knees inches from Aziraphale’s.

Swallowing the complaints about sitting on furniture not meant to be sit on,5 the principality kept his voice as level as possible, “Gabriel, what brings you here?” He had no doubts now as to who might be down in the cellar with his demon. It seemed that both head offices had timed their retaliations well.

  1. _Aziraphale had the feeling that such a complaint would not be welcome at the moment, what with the angel killing weapons pointed in his direction._



“You’ll be pleased to hear, we’ve decided there’s hope for your redemption after all! We wouldn’t normally extend this level of mercy, but... well... desperate times. We need all the manpower we can get when the final war starts.” Gabriel beamed, the warmth not quite reaching his eyes. Aziraphale decided his ‘pleased’ and Gabriel’s were quite different.

“Er, what do you mean by ‘redemption’?”

“Well, we’ve been watching you, and trying to figure out what you and that demon did to trick us. Switching bodies by the way, very tricky Aziraphale. I’ll admit you almost got us.” Gabriel said, sounding like a self-satisfied parent who had caught their child in a clever lie. Aziraphale found he didn’t particularly fancy being patronized this way. “Anyway we came to realize that you’re not completely beyond salvaging. So we’ve decided to give you a second chance, take you back upstairs, a few centuries learning how to be a proper angel again, and you can join us in your proper place in the war.” Gabriel finished, arms outstretched as if to say _‘no need to thank me, I know, I’m the best’_

“And what if I say no?” the principality asked, feeling like he might already know the answer.

“Oh come now, you don’t mean that! That’s just that demon Crawly’s influence”

“His name is _Crowley_ ” Aziraphale cut in indignantly. “And he’s not influencing me, I love-“

“Anyway, that’ll all be taken care of don’t you worry.” Gabriel interrupted with a rather terrifying malicious grin splitting his face. Muffled grunting sounds could be heard coming from downstairs and Aziraphale made to get up, a look of worry and fear on his face, only to be stopped by two blades at his throat from the guards, forcing him to sink back down onto the couch. 

“Now, now, Aziraphale there’ll be time enough for that, downstairs just wants to get reacquainted with their favorite snake before they get rid of him.”

“Get… get rid of him?”

“Yes” Gabriel said with an air of disinterest, now frowning at something underneath his nails, his legs crossed as they waited patiently for their accomplices to join them. “It works out for us, really, that snake’s been nothing but trouble for you, it’ll be good, you’ll see, minimize distractions in your redemption. In a few decades you’ll forget all about that Crawly.”

“It’s _Crowley_!” Aziraphale said, although indignation gave way to panic as the archangels words sunk in “They’re going to kill him?”

“Yup” Gabriel said, popping the ‘p’, and Aziraphale felt like he’d been doused in ice cold water. They couldn’t kill Crowley! He couldn’t be left alone, panic welled up in the angel’s chest at the thought of his demon shrieking in agony as his very essence was burned away.

“They should be up any minute now” The archangel said, breaking Aziraphale out of his thoughts. “You’ll want to see this Aziraphale” Gabriel said giddily, “Wouldn’t want to give you any ideas about leaving to see if your demon survived. Best to make a clean break, watching him die will be a nice, final wrap up of this rebellious phase you’re in, don’t you think?” The archangel stood up and moved to stand on the side of the couch, giving Aziraphale a clear view of the rest of the room.

A group of people could be heard climbing upstairs, accompanied by the unmistakable sounds of someone being dragged along against his will. The demons emerged into the room, dragging a half-conscious Crowley with them.

Two demons that Aziraphale didn’t recognize were supporting the snake-eyed one between them, Beelzebub stood over Crowley, and Hastur stood to the right of the duke of hell. Standing to the side of them all, holding a container gingerly with gloved hands, was a rather large demon. They all looked rather excited. Aziraphale’s eyes rested on Crowley. He looked awful, his clothes were ripped in various places, the buttons on his dress shirt had been torn out roughly and burns adorned his face and chest. He was limp between the demons that held him partially up by the upper forearms. His legs curled uselessly at his sides, his head hung low, his breathing ragged. Aziraphale’s own breath caught in his throat at the site of his demon in such pain.

“Crowley” he called sadly, and the demon stirred slightly

“’Zira…?” he questioned sluggishly, head rolling to the side.

Beelzebub, who was standing behind the injured demon reached down and yanked Crowley’s head up, forcing him to look right at the angel.

Aziraphale’s heart broke. His demon looked to be in a tremendous amount of pain, ragged breathing coming in short gasps, his eyes barely able to remain open. The demon tensed, and Aziraphale could see he was scared. Their eyes found each other and Aziraphale felt something warm and wet cascade down his face.

“Any last wordzzz, Crawly?” Beelzebub asked coldly as they relinquished their hold, allowing the demon’s head to fall back to his chest.

Crowley had wanted to bless the blasted demons to Heaven, or perhaps say something to his angel. One last declaration of love, or something to ease the pain it would cause the principality to see the demon die in agony right in from of him.

All that came out, however was “Bleerg”

“Good enough.” Beelzebub said with disinterest, nodding to Hastur.

Hastur knelt down behind Crowley, leaning right up next to his ear “So long, Crawly” he sneered giddily. He stood up, and Aziraphale watched in horror, unable to move as the celestial blades pressed against his throat prevented it, as Hastur tipped the container of holy water over the demons head, and a scream erupted from two places at once. The first was a cry of despair from Aziraphale, and the second was something… greater. It was like a tidal wave washed over the room as the voice boomed through it, making the hair on the back of Aziraphale’s neck stand up, and freezing everything and everyone in place. It was a one word cry, a plea and a command.

“ **STOP.** ”

Everything froze. Angels, demons, even the holy water froze in place on its way down to Crowley’s head. The only things that could move in the room were the snake-eyed demon, Aziraphale, and someone else who had entered the room along with the thunderous cry.

Crowley had been jolted more alert by the noise, and now looked up, eyes wide and flitting around the room, taking in the holy water above him, the demons surrounding him, unable to move. The two holding him tightly by the arms prevented the demon from extracting himself from his position. He was breathing heavily and steadily faster as his eyes danced from frozen demon to frozen angel, finally to Aziraphale, and then to the other person in the room.

Crowley watched, wide-eyed and with increasing panic as the woman walked among the statuesque forms. She was dressed in a light gray robe, which was billowing around her as if upset by a nonexistent breeze. A hood hid her face from Crowley’s view as her gaze was turned towards the angles nearest Aziraphale.

She wandered among them, peering into their faces, occasionally reaching out to gently touch them as she made her way through the room. She stopped at Gabriel, and Aziraphale from his position on the couch could see her expression, one of love, and kindness, but also disappointment, hurt, and a small amount of anger. Aziraphale shuddered, not wanting that gaze directed at him.

She reached out and caressed the archangel’s face, thumb stroking gently under the archangel’s eye. Aziraphale could see the fear and awe in Gabriel’s eyes, the only things that could move, as they took in the face of the woman before him. As she turned away and made her way to the other end of the room, Aziraphale let out a breath he hadn’t know he’d been holding and carefully stood up from the couch, careful to avoid the tips of the celestial weapons his now still guard were holding. The angle moved through the room, loosely following the woman in gray as she continued to make her way closer to his demon. He circled around, stopping to stand and watch near one of the demons standing along the side of the room near where Crowley was pinned by petrified demons. From there he had a view of Crowley and the woman.

Crowley watched with a mix of panic, fear, and a bit of frustration as the woman meandered through the demons surround him. She stopped to gaze at Hastur, with a rather cold expression, before turning her gaze to him, her expression immediately warming upon meeting his gaze. Crowley’s breath hitched as she knelt down to his eye level, and reached out to run a hand through his hair. Instantly the pain he was in faded and he knew without looking that the burns on his face and chest had gone, along with the bruises he could feel forming along his legs and back from the demon tackling him earlier.

Aziraphale felt relief at seeing his demon healed, and watched on as the woman stood, stepped back until she was around halfway across the room from the rebellious angel and demon, and snapped her fingers.

Bright white light nearly blinded the angel and demon as their surroundings shifted and changed.

When everything settled again, they found themselves in a garden. Each plant was tall and green, with dotted with colors as flowers bloomed, the grass was soft, and the leaves rustled in the breeze, an old apple tree stood nearby, and angel and demon knew exactly where they were. Eden.

The Almighty smiled, warmth and light radiating from her.

“Hello, boys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hold your breath waiting for the next chapter, it'll be even more dialogue heavy than this one and will probably take longer to write. Please please /PLEASE/ leave comments, thoughts, complaints, suggestions to improve, every little bit helps me get better (and tells me what people actually think of this). Thanks for reading this far.
> 
> Edited: Just changed a few wordings and a few descriptions of Crowley's injuries. 
> 
> I'm anticipating this being maybe 6 chapters based off of what I have planned.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this took a long time to finish. I'm not sure I'm too happy with the pacing of this chapter, but I've decided to go easy on myself about it and post it anyway.

Immediately Aziraphale rushed to Crowley’s side. The demon was still on the floor, and his gaze snapped from the God in front of them to Aziraphale’s face when the angel drew close. Aziraphale’s hands fluttered about, lightly touching Crowley, as if making sure he was still there. The angel was muttering to himself as he took inventory of his demon, making sure he had been properly healed1.

  1. _Of course he had been, what with The Almighty healing him_



Once he was satisfied with the physical wellbeing of the Serpent of Eden, Aziraphale snapped his fingers, and buttons reappeared on Crowley’s shirt, already done up.

“Thanks, angel.” Aziraphale didn’t miss how timidly the demon had said this. He also didn’t miss the signs that Crowley was near panic. The demon was curled up on himself, long limbs wrapped around his middle in what was effectively a self-hug, and the demon’s breathing was fast approaching hyperventilation as his eyes flicked from his angel to the deity standing not far from them.

Gently, ever so gently, the angel coaxed Crowley’s arms out from their position around the demon’s middle and helped his love to his feet. It hurt more than words can say to see the normally nonchalant demon devoid of his usual bravado. Aziraphale’s already broken heart now felt rather like shattered glass residing in his chest.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there dearest, but I’m here now, we’ll deal with this together.” Aziraphale placed himself between The Almighty and Crowley, his back to the demon but his hand grasped Crowley’s and the angel threaded their fingers together, squeezing gently, as if hoping comfort would physically transfer between them from the gesture.

Crowley crowded up behind his angel, seeking comfort via proximity, his free hand fisting the back of Aziraphale’s coat. Aziraphale could feel the demon trembling; it was slight, but it also showed no signs of going away any time soon.

The demon muttered something the angel couldn’t quite catch, but sounded suspiciously like “S’not your fault angel.”

With the demon safe and behind him, Aziraphale turned his attention to The Almighty; who hadn’t moved since transporting them all here.

It was surreal. Despite the archangel’s boasts of working closely with Her, The Almighty hadn’t been seen by anybody, angel, demon, or human in over 6,000 years2. Aziraphale wasn’t sure what he had been expecting The Almighty to look like, but he could say without a doubt it wasn’t like this.

  1. _Sometimes, when Crowley was especially drunk, he would tell Aziraphale about the times before his fall, when he worked side by side with The Almighty, creating the cosmos. Aziraphale would never bring this up to an unprepared sober Crowley, but he loved hearing these stories (he had only seen The Almighty at the moment of his creation and then hadn’t seen her since)._



She looked rather like an old wise grandmother. Her face was that of an older woman. If he had to guess, Aziraphale would say maybe mid 60s or early 70s. There were laugh lines around her eyes, although they were not smiling now. She had taken down her hood, and Aziraphale could see that her silvery-gray hair was tied up in a loose bun that served a more functional purpose than ascetic. Her eyes were a light blue, and filled with so many emotions it was dizzying. There was an immense, almost overwhelming amount of love, but also concern and worry.

The Almighty seemed to suddenly remember something, she distractedly pat her robes as if looking for something in a difficult to reach pocket. She huffed in annoyance at herself and snapped her fingers. A pair of sunglasses materialized in her hands.

It was then that the last bits of worry and fear in Aziraphale drained away. He knew, as She must know, that his demon preferred the comfort of his sunglasses. They sometimes bothered the angel, especially when he was trying to have a serious conversation with the snake-like demon. But Aziraphale appreciated that Crowley was guarded with his emotions. He didn’t feel comfortable sharing all the time and the sunglasses offered him a bit of comfort. It was not unlike a small child and a favorite blanket. The fact that She cared enough to give Crowley even this small amount of comfort assured the angel that She meant no harm, that She could never mean any harm. (Not that he had doubted her of course, but Crowley was a demon and… well… heaven had certainly been hell-bent on revenge).

She made a move to approach and the demon clutched more tightly to his angel, a strangled whimper escaping him. The demon, after all, had a much more tumultuous relationship with their creator, seeing her again after all this time, and pain and hurt it was not unreasonable for him to be so panic-ridden. She stopped, eyeing the discomforted snake. She seemed to think better of trying to approach further and instead tossed the glasses lightly to the angel.

Aziraphale made a show of examining them where Crowley could see. Not for any suspicion of his own, but because he knew the demon wouldn’t be as trusting as he was with The Almighty. After this he handed them to Crowley, who quickly jammed them on his face, returning his hands to clutch once again at Aziraphale’s coat3

  1. _Under any other circumstances Aziraphale would take great issue with this (He had kept this coat in near-perfect condition since the Victorian Era) however he considered this a mitigating circumstance (he might grumble good naturedly to Crowley about this later, when they were curled up together on the couch and the demon had miracled the wrinkles out)._



God seemed to shift her weight from foot to foot, unsure how to proceed from here. For a while no one moved or made a sound. Then, The Almighty seemed to find her words.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry my darlings” She started. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. Just help. And have a chance to… Oh I don’t know, explain?” _‘Thank you for saving my beloved creations?’_ She also thought, but decided against voicing that out loud.

Aziraphale felt the demon’s tremble get worse, glanced backwards and sideways, concerned and expecting to see the demon panicking. He was instead surprised to see that the demon was angry. It was difficult to tell with the sunglasses, but six thousand years of knowing someone will make every minute detail stand out as it’s a great big billowing flag. Aziraphale could easily tell that Crowley was _furious._

“Six Thousand…. Six Thousand years of _nothing_ , No help, not answers… and _now_ is when you choose to begin explaining yourself?” Crowley seethed. Although Crowley had been straining to contain the hiss that usually came with such emotion, the other two in the garden could hear the 6,000 years of accumulated hurt and anger that lay behind the words.

Aziraphale couldn’t do much to hide his shock at the demon’s outburst. He turned back to look at Her, eyes wide, his hand shot behind him to grip Crowley’s arm4. Wearily, he waited to see if The Almighty would grow angry and take revenge for his demon’s anger.

  1. _Whether to warn Crowley off, or to reassure himself that the demon was alright Aziraphale didn’t know._



Instead, she seemed to grow more weary, as if the demon’s words were now great stone weights that she had to carry.

“You’re right.”

The demon froze, his hands tightening their hold on his angel’s coat5

  1. _To reassure himself that his angel was there. Would always be there, he knew._



Both Aziraphale and The Almighty had to strain to hear the muttered and confused “What?” that Crowley let out at this.

“You’re right” The Almighty repeated with a sigh. “I wasn’t there when I should have been, and for that I am so sorry. I’d like to explain, if you’ll let me.” She walked closer as she said this, careful not to make too many sudden movements so as not to startle the two.

Crowley Swallowed thickly, but made no further noise of protest.

She took that as a sign to continue.

“Well, first off my dears, _fantastic_ job stopping the apocalypse. I’m ever so proud of you both.” She beamed brightly, and Aziraphale felt a near overwhelming amount of love go their way, felt her pride flow through him, and based on the shaky inhale coming from behind him, the demon felt it too.

“The plan was always to avoid the apocalypse, I never wanted to see a war, and I was ever so happy when I saw you and those humans stop it happening.”

Despite himself, and despite the lingering discomfort Crowley was feeling in the presence of his creator, he couldn’t help but interrupt. “If you never intended the world to end then why have the four horsemen, and the hellhound? And allow the antichrist to exist? That doesn’t make much sense does it?” Crowley questioned. He was always questioning, and it seemed even the surprise appearance of God herself couldn’t stop the questions for long.

“That is… a complicated answer.” The Almighty started. “The short version is that I didn’t set that all up, it just sort of, fell into place that way. The idea was that Earth would just… keep existing indefinitely, that the angels and humans would grow and learn, and become more than they are.”

“If humanity was really supposed to get better why weren’t you there to show us the way? Why did you let everyone just sit around and guess what you wanted? You know most angels are huge pompous dicks right?”

“Crowley…” Aziraphale said in a gentle warning. It was, after all, impolite to talk like that to the deity. Though, the angel supposed, the day Crowley was polite to his superiors was the day Aziraphale wondered who he was and what he had done with the real Crowley.

God seemed to take it all in stride however, and ignored the tone of the questions in favor of explaining Herself.

“Free will” She said sadly, “People don’t always use it for good, I’m afraid.”

“But that doesn’t explain why you haven’t been around. Why you haven’t been there to tell us what to do. Humans pray to you all the time, they ask for _guidance_ , and where have you been? Why haven’t you intervened? The last time You did anything it was to kill a bunch of people and then make a bloody rainbow!” The demon spoke faster as he continued, his voice becoming still angrier as he let out rapid fire questions, as though afraid he wouldn’t be able to get them all out in time.

The Almighty looked pained. She took a deep breath, and attempted to explain. “Well sweetheart, the plan was for humans to be self-sufficient, you see. I wanted you not to need me in the end. Making everything was… _wonderful_ ” She looked wistful as she said this “Creating the sky, and the stars with you and your siblings was the happiest I ever was.” She beamed at the demon, who huffed out a breath in response, as though he didn’t fully believe the sentiment. “But as I kept going I came to realize that my control was limiting, that you’d never grow to be more than what I let you be, and I wanted you to be more. I wanted you to move beyond what I hoped you could be, to explore things for yourselves, to grow and progress, and achieve more than I could ever dream up for you.” She finished with a fond loving smile, her eyes brightening at the thought of all the ways humanity had surprised her over the millennia, and how a particular angel and demon grew to be more than she could have possibly hoped they could be.

Crowley scoffed. “Really? You expect me to believe casting half of us out of heaven was so that we could be _better?_ ” he spat.

They had reached it, the point of most contention between the demon and God. Aziraphale held his breath as he and the demon awaited The Almighty’s answer.

“My darling, I am so sorry I couldn’t stop you falling. I didn’t make the call, you see” The Almighty admitted finally, her smile unchanging but her eyes showing more sorrow than before. Something half way between a laugh and a sob bubbled up from the demon’s throat, and he clutched harder still to his angel.

“Wh-what do you mean?” the words clawed their way up Crowley’s throat without his permission, his voice sounding rather rough. “you cast me out! It wass you, wassssn’t it?” Crowley’s confidence drained with each word, his hiss getting worse as he grew more emotional.

God stepped closer to the pair, arms twitching upward in an aborted attempt to embrace. Eventually she seemed to deem it unwise to attempt tactile comfort, and settled for putting her hands in pockets that had materialized in her robes. “Oh sweetheart, it’s terribly difficult to describe, I’m afraid I wouldn’t know where to begin” She took a deepbreath and tried to explain anyway, “It’s like- it would be as if- Ohh” The Almighty cut herself off in frustration. At this point, The Almighty wanted nothing more than to say ‘alright jolly good! Once again, excellent job stopping the end of the world my dears! Cheers!’ and pop back out of existence. However, she knew she owed an explanation. No matter how stumbling, imperfect, and incomplete the explanation would have to be.

“It’s just… I gave up control a very long time ago. And maybe it wasn’t the best choice, but it’s the choice I would make again.” She began, voice growing more desperate at the increasingly skeptical look on Crowley’s Face. “If I hadn’t humans wouldn’t be where they are today, with all their conveniences, and their advancements. They’re finally starting to peer away from their planet and explore the beautiful universe we built for them!” Her voice cracked with emotion near the end. “Anyway” She continued, clearing her throat “I gave it up, and I can’t take it back. I had to watch on as my angels turned on one another, cast each other out, and I couldn’t help. There’s a… limit, to my powers you see. I can only do so much.”

“But… but…” Crowley stammered “You’re supposed to be all powerful! _The Almighty_ and everything.”

She sighed and stepped closer. “I wish I could have all the answers for you darling I really do. But honestly I don’t really know why I can’t take it back. I suppose some things are just… just…” She cast around for an appropriate word “Ineffable”

‘Ineffable’ was a term Crowley had come to associate with Aziraphale. It was a constant presence in his life, and he was achingly familiar with the exact way each part of the word tripped over the angel’s tongue. Crowley had come to love the word for its connection to his angel, but at times it rattled around in the back of his head; behaving like an itch that would not go away.

Crowley liked to be, as they put it ‘in the know’. He liked to know exactly what was going on, exactly why something was that way. He questioned everything. It was this that got Crowley6 cast out of heaven. It had been quick. They had surrounded him, appearing from nowhere, and before he knew it, Crowley was falling. And _burning_.

  1. _at the time known by a different, much more angelic name_



But despite his anger at heaven, and at The Almighty herself, he also had something other demons lacked, faith. However minute, however miniscule, however buried under years of resentment, confusion, and hurt, Crowley still had some inkling of faith.

This time, unmistakable sobs erupted from the demon. That damn-blessed- _somethinged!_ Word. It seemed to chase him everywhere, through dizzying conversations with his angel over the millennia. Along with his frustration at the inexplicability of everything came relief. Intense, overwhelming relief. His questioning _wasn’t_ wrong, and The Almighty didn’t hate him. For 6,000 years he had been hurt and confused, unable to reason why The Almighty had kicked him out. He had loved her, and believed in her, all he had done was ask questions. But now, after so long wondering and hating himself, it hadn’t been her decision after all. He hadn’t been wrong to question things, all the guilt and hurt that he had carried in his heart from his fall was just because of angels had cast him out (and let’s be honest, he didn’t care what they thought of him… well, he only cared about _one_ angel’s opinion anyway).

Aziraphale turned and hugged his demon, he was smiling faintly. He just _knew_ somehow, that God didn’t really dislike his demon. How could anyone? He was so kind, he cared about humanity so much, and yes he can be a bit… _prickly_ and he likes to cause a bit of mischief but he was by no means evil. Pride welled up in his chest. They had been on the right side after all, and (although it wouldn’t have changed how he felt about Crowley) The Almighty seemed to approve of them.

The angel’s happy thoughts were interrupted by a deep rumbling. The ground underneath them shook, and The Almighty stumbled a bit, a hand going to her head and her features crumpling in pain.

“Wh-what’s going on?”

The Almighty recovered quickly, waving a hand dismissively “It’s nothing darling, just can’t hold this place together for much longer. I’m not really meant to be all in one place after all, supposed to be everywhere you see.” She explained with the air of someone explaining a grocery list rather than the worrying reason behind why everything was shaking.

“We’ll have to cut things off here I’m afraid.” She continued “I’m going to need to send you back to where you were when I stopped everything but don’t worry, I’ll give you some protection.” She closed the remaining distance between them, and wrapped Aziraphale in a hug.

The Angel couldn’t help but let out a gasp. She pulled away, hands still resting on his shoulders.

“You are everything I could have ever hoped angels would be, and so much more, my dear, and I’m ever so proud.” She kissed his forehead, and the angel flushed. Not in embarrassment, but in the way one does when experiencing an unexpected and sudden warmth.

The Almighty then turned to Crowley, who’s eyes grew wide behind his sunglasses as he was wrapped in a hug, and _oh._ A spark of love found its home in the demon’s chest. It was the closest he had ever come to how he felt before the fall, but at the same time altogether different. The bright, white, searing and all-encompassing love that had been ripped away from him so long ago was replaced with something softer, but warmer. If it was a color it would have been a pale yellow, a nice glow that awoke in his chest and stayed there after She pulled away.

“You’ve been so brave, my darling, I couldn’t be more proud if I tried” She beamed. She kissed the demon’s forehead, and he had to repress a slight shiver. It felt rather like cool water was cascading down his back.

“But… But… I gave up on you. For a while I didn’t believe in you anymore… I was so _angry_ …” The demon said, unsure that he was worthy of this love, awe evident in his features as he looked upon The Almighty.

She smiled warmly, and as she spoke the rumbling grew more intense and white light slowly engulfed everything. “Oh my dear, That would never… _could_ never, stop _me_ from believing in _you_.”

As The Almighty said this, the growing light engulfed everything, and angel and demon fould feel everything shifting around them.

* * *

As the bright white light faded, their living room came back into focus, and angel and demon found themselves returned to their positions, Crowley back in the arms of the demons and Aziraphale sitting on their couch. There was an almost inaudible pop, and time started up again.

Water splashed down all around Crowley, but instead of shrieking and disintegrating, the demon merely coughed and spluttered in surprise and shock at the cold water he was now drenched with.

Hastur took a few shaky steps back, the now empty container clattered to the floor.

“That was… _That was…_ ” The Duke of Hell seemed lost for words, his eyes wide and scared. This expression was mirrored by almost everyone in the room.

“But… That _can’t_ have been… She wouldn’t…” Gabriel started, but was interrupted by a great crashing sound, and a great gust of wind swept through the room.

The wind seemed to leave much of the room undisturbed, but was strong enough to jostle the forces of Heaven and Hell. The remaining demons shrieked in fright, whether from the presence of the divine wind or from the sight of The Almighty herself that none of them could deny now, it was unclear. One by one in rapid succession, the angels and demons vanished from the room, leaving a wide-eyed angel and sopping wet demon alone in their house.

For the second time that day Aziraphale rushed to his demon’s side, taking stock of the Serpent of Eden, hands brushing against him here and there, making sure he was alright. A snap of fingers dried the demon completely, and they clutched each other.

For a long time, neither spoke, they sat together on the floor of their living room, holding each other.

“Well…” The demon began. “I suppose I really am immune to holy water now. I doubt either of our old sides are going to bother us again.”

The angel pressed a kiss into his demon’s coppery hair. “Yes well, I dare say you’re right my dear. This whole ordeal has left me exhausted, what do you say we head upstairs and get some sleep?”

The demon sighed in relief and nodded. There would be time enough to talk about what had just transpired, to pour over every detail and discuss the thoughts swirling in each of their heads tomorrow, once they were both rested.

She watched from everywhere and nowhere, if she were still in one from, she would be beaming in delight as She watched her favorite angel and demon climb into bed, and let the exhaustion of their ordeal pull them into a peaceful slumber. And, well, if She sat vigil for the night and blessed them with a peaceful dreamless sleep, that was entirely Her business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, one more chapter to go. The last chapter is going to be a little nice fluffy wrap up, shouldn't be too long, and I hope to have it done in the next few days. 
> 
> Thank you for reading this far, and please leave a comment telling me what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

In the weeks that followed their ordeal, Crowley couldn’t help but notice all the little ways life seemed to change.

Some things were the same, they awoke to the same familiar cozy little cottage (although a little worse for wear thanks to their former head offices). They settled back into their everyday lives alarmingly fast for what had transpired. Aziraphale made quick work of clearing the cellar after making sure Crowley would stay away. At first the demon complained about this (“There’s no need to get so overprotective angel, I’m immune, you saw it for someone’s sake!”) But was eventually mollified when he realized how scary it must have been for the angel to see him almost die, newfound immunity or not. After all, he wasn’t keen to let his angel anywhere near hellfire despite being reasonably certain that it wouldn’t harm him now.

In many ways life seemed to return back to normal. They settled back into their familiar routine, and life continued. It took a while for the changes to make themselves apparent

They were small, but many. For one, that soft yellow glow that had taken up residence in Crowley’s chest seemed to have little intention of going anywhere else. In fact, it seemed to grow and expand with time. If Crowley really concentrated, he could just make out small tendrils of warmth radiating throughout his body from where the glow had settled in his sternum. It was as if the glow had settled down, liked its new home, and had sent out roots, intent on staying. The glow was like the divine grace he had been created with in so many ways, but also different in all the best ways. It was warmer, less… impersonal in a way that made it all the more bearable. Although he would never admit it aloud, the demon found he liked this glow, liked knowing She cared for him, and not in the way that ethereal beings were meant to care about everything in a general sense, but the kind of care that was personal, meant just for him. In a way the number of sentient beings that cared this way for him had just doubled1

  1. _Or increased by 100% if one cared to look at it that way, although it could just as easily be chalked up to semantics._



He didn’t notice it until the second day after what they had now decided to call ‘the incident’, when he sat down to get the wrinkles out of Aziraphale’s favorite jacket.2Miracles seemed to come easier to him now. There had always been limits on the frequency with which Crowley could perform demonic miracles. Too many at once often left him needing to rest for days (Not to mention that downstairs also demanded detailed reports of each and every minor miracle he performed which was a pain). But the demon was pleasantly surprised to find that the wrinkles worked themselves out of the fabric with minimal effort.

  1. _The angel kept insisting that he was fine with it, but Crowley knew how much he had liked his jacket and well, Crowley had wrinkled it after all._



He spent the rest of the day experimenting, he miracled some of Aziraphale’s favorite chocolates from a little place not far from the bookshop, leaving them on the kitchen counter for the angel to discover at his leisure, he miracle his favorite wine up from the cellar, already in a glass, and miracle himself onto Aziraphale’s desk

“Has performing miracles been easier for you lately, angel?” The demon asked casually, fighting to hide a small smirk at the way the angel jumped I surprise and dropped his book. 

“ _Really,_ dear…” The angel grumbled with no real disapproval behind his voice as he picked up his book, inspecting it carefully for damage. “There was no need to startle the book out of my hands. What was it you said? I’m afraid I wasn’t paying attention.”

Crowley repeated the question and watched as Aziraphale considered carefully.

“I suppose… yes. Miracles have seemed a bit, well, less cumbersome, lately.”

“I suppose that’ll come in handy if anyone comes back trying to start anything.”

“Yes, but I highly doubt they’d dare show up anytime soon my dear, not now that she’s shown that we were right all along.” The Angel said, rather confidently, for someone who was constantly fretting, and second guessing himself.

A hum of agreement. A comfortable silence.

An then:

“I uh, bought a bookshelf for the greenhouse… I.. I know we were talking about that right before and I thought… well I thought it might be nice. To have you so close, I mean, while I tend the plants. Should arrive tomorrow, if you’re interested in helping me set it up.”

Crowley had to avert his gaze from Aziraphale as he finished lamely. The angel seemed to glow with delight and love, and the demon found himself unable to look, amazed that such an expression could be meant for him. 

“That would be wonderful, dear” Aziraphale said softly.

Crowley swallowed thickly. “Good. Right. Well… that’s settled then… I should- should go check on my plants… yeah…” The demon ducked out of the room, not quite managing to hide a small pleased smile.

Another change, and one that Aziraphale had mixed feeling about, was that Crowley talked quite a bit more about his time before Eden after their talk with The Almighty.In the weeks and months that followed their ordeal, Crowley added more and more details. About his time in heaven, about his fall, about his early days in hell, even about a talk they had, before he fell, that Aziraphale could only vaguely and fuzzily recollect when he concentrated very hard. Sometimes these chats would end with Crowley sobering up, and then retreating further into their cottage.3Other times, Aziraphale found himself cuddled up with a sleeping yet relieved snake, and feeling happier than he remembered being in a millennia.

  1. _Aziraphale knew Crowley well enough by now that he wisely left the demon alone to recover from such an emotionally charged confession._



Both angel and demon found they liked this arrangement. Aziraphale would often run his hands along the beautifully smooth scales of his dearest demon, and thought that, no matter how… well.. _ineffable_ it all seemed, they would always have each other.

And they both knew it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that happened. Honestly the things I wanted to write about with this were in previous chapters, it took me a while to decide how to end this. I wanted it to be longer, but I didn't have much more to say, just wanted a happy ending. Might go back and add more to this, might not. Anyway thanks for reading thus far.


End file.
